


still turn the switches on, just to see if it's still gone

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blind!Beth, Blindness, F/M, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: Being blind never really slowed Beth down after her accident. She had Chuck, who guided her through hallways and used the words her friends failed to find to describe what she was missing. And her voice, well that wasn’t gone. She could still talk and she could still listen and in fact, she never read social cues very well in the first place, so really when it came to talking people’s ears off things haven’t much changed.
Relationships: Beth Chapel & Rick Tyler, Beth Chapel & Yolanda Montez & Rick Tyler & Courtney Whitmore, Beth Chapel/Rick Tyler
Comments: 17
Kudos: 16





	still turn the switches on, just to see if it's still gone

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Alice Kristiansen's song Night Vision.

Being blind never really slowed Beth down after her accident. She had Chuck, who guided her through hallways and used the words her friends failed to find to describe what she was missing. And her voice, well that wasn’t gone. She could still talk and she could still listen and in fact, she never read social cues very well in the first place, so really when it came to talking people’s ears off things haven’t much changed.

Her mother doted over her more, which was weird because before she was found in her own emergency room Beth swore she was trying to pull away. Her dad bought her a bookcase full of her favourite novels in braille, which was very thoughtful. Pat gifted her with Dr. Mcnider’s owl for companionship and defence during missions. Most kids at school seemed to at least try to help her out. There was no use denying the need for extra assistance. Trying to explain that her artificial intelligence sufficed well enough to adapt to a handicapped life thanks to her superheroing pursuits was hard to explain, not to mention dangerous (and owls were strictly prohibited therapy animals in the Blue Valley High handbook—She checked). So Beth often found herself smiling at those who brushed against her arm or told her what time a teacher’s office hours were, even so far as helping her pack her bag. 

Unnecessary, maybe. But it was nice. 

This was why when she reached into her backpack during lunch on her way from the test accommodations room, her heart dropped to her gut. Beth only felt crumpled papers, her two binders, and her pencil case. Struck with alarm, she called out his name but was met with silence. Awful, sickening silence and a draft from the half-opened window in the staircase. 

Her goggles weren’t there. 

_“Chuck?”_

Her fingers flexed against the line of her inner zipper hard enough to get a paper cut. Her phone was also missing. Her phone had Chuck programmed into its assistance system. Her phone _and_ Chuck. Gone. 

Someone stole him while she took her test. Someone who would know she was dependent on him. Someone who knew she was Dr. Mid-Nite. Someone who went to this school. 

_Shiv? Tigress?_

Beth’s mind raced as she jutted out her hand towards the cold railing. It was so silent. Too silent. She needed to hear Chuck’s voice in her ear. That reassurance was the backbone of her strength and confidence and her _eyes._

She never had to deal with quiet like this. She’d have her own thoughts probing the back of her mind while she daydreamed or took her tests. She’d have Chuck’s constant chattering and Hootie’s feather rustlings, Yolanda’s giggles, Court’s cheers, Pat’s comforting words. And maybe there’d be that part of herself that mourned what it was like not to need that: True friendship and belonging, the assurance of who and what made up her definition of _home_. 

That chilling loneliness from those days before JSA was miserable in a matter of fact way, but Beth was used to it then, independent and resilient and unknowing anything better. 

Abandoned here was reminiscent of that time exemplified. Back when she was _loser_ Beth. Not _blind_ Beth.

She loved JSA, she loved her friends, but sometimes she preferred the crippling isolation that came with that. The safety of before. But she had to remind herself it wasn’t safe. It wasn’t safe and it wasn’t healthy. Whether she had her sight or not, all of Blue Valley was in danger and would be brainwashed now if she hadn’t stepped up to help. 

But not like this. 

Her breathing grew ragged as she clutched the side of the wall, mind spiralling. She knew Blue Valley High. She knew this school. This was her school, this was her year’s wing and this was the C block stairwell. She had the entire building memorized before she ever needed to. 

She couldn’t remember the number of steps. The number locked itself in the haze of her anxiety. It could be twelve or fifteen or sixteen or twenty-six. Or, there could be chocolate milk spilt in the middle for her to slip on and break her neck and Beth wouldn’t even know. If this was Cindy’s attempt at psychological warfare, it was working. She was immobilized, alone, afraid, and for the first time in too long, _completely blind._

_“Chuck?”_

Why was she still calling out for him like a helpless child? He couldn’t help her. He wasn’t there.

Beth’s fingers shook as she felt along the dirty metal railing. She slid herself down, her back touching the wall. If Cindy was going to ambush her, she’d at least won’t make it too easy. 

Two minutes morphed into five, then ten. Beth stayed in a fragile panic with her backpack clutched to her chest. Courtney was going to find her here dead because she was too afraid to walk down a flight of stairs. This was going to be by far the lamest death in JSA history and here she was, suppressing her hand over her mouth, still bawling her eyes out regardless of it. 

The door from the bottom creaked open and Beth’s breathing ceased. The footsteps were slower but sounded heavy like the person was going up two at a time. Soon, two hands were on hers and she was throwing her arms around their neck, clinging tightly because she knew who they belonged to. 

_“Rick.”_

“Beth? You weren’t answering your phone, Yolanda sent me out to find you. What happened?” 

_“Someone stole Chuck.”_

He stilled, and she could feel through his thin shirt the way his heart sped against her ear. 

“What?” His hand went straight to her hair, stroking it as his voice went harder. “Who the _fuck_ would do that to you?”

She didn’t answer, sure that a handful of possible answers came to his mind. 

“Why didn’t you come to find us?” he asked her a lot more softly. 

It was hard to explain why Beth was paralyzed. 

“I can’t,” she whimpered. “They took my phone. I got scared.”

Rick moved her back, pushing her from the edge of the top step. “I’ll carry you.”

“No!”

Rick paused just as the flat of his palms touched the underneath of her knees. He was going to carry her all the way to the cafeteria and everyone in the hall would stop and stare and whisper and Beth never cared about what people thought of her (she already knew—Chuck informed her weekly) but being carried around the school while clinging to Rick Tyler because she got disoriented would be the most mortifying experience of her existence. 

The confusion in his voice was evident. And if she didn’t know better, she might’ve thought he felt hurt. “You don’t want me to—?”

Beth turned her head away. Of course, she wanted him to hold her again. Like she hadn’t dreamed of Hourman catching her over and over since that very first week over a year ago. She realized her fondness and interest in Rick’s friendship was less that of strong will and more of a swelling crush. That didn’t make it any less difficult to manage. She took a breath, chest still tight like half of the oxygen in her lungs had been swapped with something more noxious. This was starting to be too much.

The problem with Chuck was that she’d never really accepted being blind. 

  
  


When her eyesight deteriorated after the accident, Beth had been in such deep denial she smiled and lied to her mother when asked if she felt okay enough to return to school, only to walk right into oncoming traffic. An older man yanked her by the arm of her backpack as two cars flew by fast enough to bring the rush of wind to her face. Rattled, Beth felt into her bag for Chuck, ignoring the swimming black spots in her vision. She’d rub her eyes with her fists too hard when she woke up that morning, she kept telling herself and refused to put Chuck away. 

And then, when she had to confess those black spots weren’t going away, that they were only narrowing into her focal points and she tricked up her phone to get Chuck there too...That was it. She told the JSA that she was going blind after her doctor visit confirmed she was going to lose it all. They all burst into tears for her, but Beth didn’t, stuck in an accepting kind of numb. 

The darkness snuck up on her like a shadow behind her back. Every blink and she wondered if it was the last one. It dragged on and her world got a little darker with every new day. Anxiety cracked at her spirit and broke her down, and she’d stay awake at night, staring up at her ceiling, practising for the familiarity of it without Chuck. Soon, she wished for it, begging the wait to be over.

Misery would not leave her until it did. 

Beth could see in X-ray, infrared and pitch black when nobody else could. She used to tell herself that made her different. That she didn’t have it so bad. She knew everything there was to see, and with Hootie on her shoulder and the blackout bombs she deployed in battle, Chuck levelled the playing field. Maybe even tipped odds of success in her favour. 

So really, maybe Beth had been living a disillusioned lie for the last few months. 

She couldn’t be Dr. Mid-Nite all the time.

“I’ll do it myself,” she said, pushing a light hand against his chest. It was possible that her voice was trembling, and she didn’t sound all too sure, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. “I need to.”

Rick hesitated. “Beth, you’re shaking. I don’t think—”

“ _Please_ , Rick. They can take…” Her hands went to her face, wiping away her hot tears. He was right, she was shaking. “They can take my sight and my security and _Chuck_. But they can’t make me any less of who I am. I’ve walked down these stairs hundreds of times with sight _and_ blindness. I can do this.” Her voice petered off, and she felt worried again at his silence. “Do you believe me?”

“I’m not the one that needs to believe it, Beth.” 

Rick wasn’t the one doubting her. Her insecurities and self-doubt came from within. The words were harsh like a slap to her face, no matter how soft he uttered them. A cold reality check, but coming from his mouth, it was meaningful and not meant in any way to hurt her. Coming from Rick, it was different. And it was true.

He was a lot more clever than he let on.

She stared down where the grips on the bottom of her shoes teetered over the edge of the first step. Rick might’ve not been as close to her anymore but she knew he was hovering. It felt like a cliff or a massive waterfall. Her heart pounded like she was at the ledge of the world. She had to tell her brain to stop imagining those things. It only made it scarier. It’s like she said before. These were stairs. This was her cell block, the wing that led to the locker area. This was her school. It was familiar ground. She bit her lip, reining in the courage before it went away and held out her hand.

“Keep me steady?” Because the world could still turn at her anxiety’s whim. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to let him go. Rick grasped her hand tight. 

“How many stairs are there?” 

“Twenty-three.”

Beth exhaled. Twenty-three. She could do that. Her other hand went to the railing, and she took her first blind step down. Her stomach swooped like the drop in an elevator. But then her foot hit solid ground. 

That was it? 

She stepped down again, and it was fine. 

It was fine.

“There you go,” Rick encouraged her, squeezing her hand to let her know he was still there. “You don’t need me.”

She actually didn’t. Muscle memory and confidence guided her through, and eventually, on step thirteen, she let go. 

When she reached the floor, a rush of pride flooded through her. She was perfectly fine. More than fine, she was great and not crying anymore. Whoever thought stealing Chuck would render her useless was in for a surprise because—

Beth spun around, realizing she had walked right on, pushed the door and made an angry beeline through the mercifully empty hall to get to the cafeteria, leaving Rick behind. 

He grabbed her hand again after jogging after her.

“Hey!” he said, with a smile in his tone. “I didn’t mean that literally.” 

Beth’s face heated up, mostly because she was acutely aware that their fingers twined. “Sorry.” Though she did not know why she was apologizing. 

He brushed his thumb against her knuckles. He didn’t seem to mind. “It’s my fault. So who am I killing tonight?” 

Beth scoffed. “You won’t kill anybody.”

“I might,” Rick muttered, tugging her quickly to the side, presumably so she wouldn’t step on something. She stumbled a bit, but only ended up bumping into Rick. Beth flushed and reoriented herself.

“Thanks,” she murmured, slowing her pace to be more careful. Then returned to the conversation. “You said you couldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Rick said. “...Well. Whoever the hell thought they could get away with stealing Chuck—”

“Someone stole Chuck?” Yolanda cried over the chattering of everyone else on lunch break. 

Her shins hit the bench of the table. Beth put her hands out on the surface to climb in and Courtney immediately ended up at her side. Beth wrinkled her nose as bouncy curls flew into her face. 

“Are you okay?” 

“She is now,” Rick said, now sitting beside her. He touched her arm. “You are, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she answered quietly, indulging in leaning against him because he was using a soft, gentle voice that made her want to hug him forever. “I’m not freaking out anymore.” Beth lifted a reluctant shoulder and wiped at her wet face. “He’s still missing though.”

“It’s Cindy,” Courtney said, narrowing her eyes across the room. 

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“No, I do,” said Court. “She’s staring at us right now.” 

Rick’s warmth was gone in an instant.

“Wait—” Beth called after him just _knowing_ he now had his hourglass. Her hand reached out to empty space. 

“I’m knocking the bitch out. Court, let’s go.” 

“On it.”

“You’re gonna beat her up in the middle of the caf?” Yolanda hissed at them to sit back down. “You can’t do that!”

But then Yolanda muttered something under her breath.

“What?” Beth asked when the rest went quiet, but she could sense the way all of her friends tensed up.

“She _has_ the goggles Beth,” Court said. “She’s taunting us with them right now.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Yolanda said tersely. It was obvious she also was exhausted by Cindy.

“Okay.” Beth stood up. “Bring me over so I don’t trip on a wet brown napkin or something.”

_“You want to go over there??!”_

“Yes,” Beth snapped with a hard glare. It probably wasn’t aimed at the right spot but that didn’t mean it wasn’t _fierce_. “She wanted to scare me? She did. But Cindy has been _cruel_ for so long and I’m not giving her the satisfaction of—” She balled her hands into fists and took a long slow breath to calm down. She hadn’t realized she was almost yelling. 

She released them after a moment and dropped her hands back to her sides. Beth was seething mad, that was for sure, but if she didn’t get her anger in check her plan would be no better than Courtney and Rick’s. “—I’m _getting_ Chuck back so hurry up and get me there before I lose my nerve.”

Nobody said anything.

“ _Now_ ,” she clipped.

“I—” 

They realized she meant business and they all scrambled to catch up with her, realizing she wasn’t going to wait. 

The three surrounded her like bodyguards. Her arm linked with Rick’s and Yolanda’s hand was on her back, guiding her to the popular table. 

Beth touched her hair briefly and stiffened her spine. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but trusted herself enough to improv once she got there.

When Yolanda removed her hand, Beth knew they were in front of Cindy, Jenny and her other group of mean girls. She let go of Rick, choosing to fold her arms over her chest instead. 

“What are _you_ staring at, Beth?” Cindy drawled at her. There was a pause and she tittered. “Oh wait—”

The table straight up laughed. 

“ _Burman!_ ” Rick barked. 

Courtney stepped up too, but both Yolanda and Beth blocked her with a warning hand.

“Hey,” Beth said coolly, with an eerie collectedness she didn’t even know she had. “I came to have a chat with you.”

“Oh, she wants to talk? That’s cute.”

“Thank you,” she said sarcastically, sailing over the condescension. 

“Clearly you’re too naive and didn’t get the hint. I don’t _want_ to _talk_ to you. Get lost.” 

Beth leaned in so close, she could hear the clinging of Shiv’s earrings. She felt movement, but she picked up on her intuition and honestly shocked herself by snatching Cindy’s bare wrist. 

Cindy went still. 

The worst part is that Beth knew what was underneath the soft skin and thousand dollar bangle bracelet. Cindy could so easily eject her knife and blade. She could stab Beth right through if she wanted. She’d done so to her dad in the basement of the tunnels. 

But Beth wasn’t afraid. 

“I don’t need to see you to know you’re smirking at me like this is the funniest thing you’ve ever done. I don’t need my eyes to know the way you were just leaning against your hand, wearing your Ralph Lauren polo shirt with one of your ridiculous berets and my _visual aid_ dangling off the other hand like some next-season must-have accessory that you want because it’s something you can’t have.”

Beth dug her nails into Cindy’s skin. It’s not like it would scar. She continued, acutely aware of the way so much of the room seemed to have gone silent. If half the school hears _her_ go off on Cindy Burman, maybe a few of the kids too terrified to stand up to anyone bullying them could learn a thing or two as well. 

“But let me tell you something, Cindy. You _can’t_ have it. I can’t see without them. I’m blind.”

“I know,” Cindy gritted out through her teeth. 

“Yeah, I’m blind,” Beth raised her voice, just a little. “And so are _you_. Except you and I? We’re nothing alike. I lost my sight because of an accident, but _you_ are blind and ignorant and grossly egocentric. And you did that to yourself. So take my phone out of your purse before I let Rick rip it from you, give me my _goggles_ , and leave me the _hell_ alone.”

Cindy dropped the goggles onto the floor, expecting the lenses to shatter. 

They don’t.

~.~

“Rick?”

After Cindy dropped Chuck, Rick took her phone back as Yolanda ripped her a new one about being creepy with her phone theft habit, emboldened by Beth’s speech. The four left the cafeteria after, all wanting to leave, wishing the lunch period to be over with. 

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for holding my hand.” 

He stopped walking, so Beth stopped walking. His hand in hers gave a light squeeze. Which was nice, because it meant he hadn’t let go since she put Chuck back on and blinked back at him after a shy glance, so relieved to see the outlines of his face again in any way she’s given. 

“Whatever you need.”

She believed him, sure enough. Beth sighed as they walked through the hall. Courtney and Yolanda were behind them, talking about something Beth couldn’t care enough to listen to. 

“Then...I need a cane. My dad bought one a while ago but I’ve left it in my room because I didn’t want it.”

“But…” He frowned at her, sounding confused. “You got Chuck back. You don’t need the cane now.”

Beth sighed. “Except, I do. I’m legally blind, Rick.” 

“Yeah, but Beth—”

She shrugged her shoulders and bit her lower lip. “It’s true. I need to learn to live as I am. Not what I wish I could be.”

“You _are_ Dr. Mid-Nite.”

“I know that,” she promised softly, patting his arm. “But I’m Beth Chapel, too. I can’t be afraid of being me.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It took me months to finish this story. I struggled with how to get the message across the way I wanted it to. Hopefully, I did it justice.


End file.
